Oryx
by Lady Lye
Summary: Alanna and George come into contact with the infamous oryx! Muahahaha! Post Immortals. One shot. R&R!


*waves* Hallo, TP fans! Lady Lye here, doing a bit of work outside my usual Gundam Wing sphere. If you've read my stuff there, I'm sure you're happy, if not, don't sweat it. I'm not new to the writing thing and not new to TP although this is the first TP fic I've written. (YAY ME!)   
  
This came from a prompt in a magazine where you had to take a headline, not read the article, and write a short story stemming from the article. This is what I came up with. Don't ask.   
  
Enjoy and please review!   
  
-Lady   
  


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Oryx   
  
By Lady Lye   
  
© 2002   
  
Disclaimer: The works of Tamora Pierce are not mine and I only use these things for entertainment- read on!! Don't sue!! Not worth it!   
  


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The day had dawned hot and humid, much to Alanna's disgust. She squinted ahead on the trail, looking for hints that might lead them to their quarry, and once again cursed her ridiculous armor. _I could've chosen to be a lady. I could've sat at home on my bottom with servants to fan me and a cool drink, but no, I just _had_ to be a knight and ride about the countryside in leather and chain mail. _   
  
As she was about to continue her morbid thoughts, her unmanageable husband pulled up beside her, riding one of the strong mares he had bought from Alanna's bazhir relatives last summer. A beautiful, glossy black, he had named her Shadow, and the mare proved him wrong daily by frolicking eagerly in the sun. She was happy now to be outside the Swoop's four walls, even with a rider on her back. Alanna cast the mare a sympathetic look before looking up as George began to speak.   
  
"Not a sign of it. I think those lads were puttin' us on, love," he said clearly, but in a low tone so that the rest of their small hunting company would not hear. He had a talent for knowing when others might be eavesdropping, and was almost as good at being able to hide what was said.   
  
Alanna 'hm'ed in answer, eyes traveling up the small rock and dirt path through the hills. She wasn't so sure. That morning a small group of youths had tumbled into the Swoop's courtyard babbling about a strange creature that had attacked them on the Cliffside overlooking the sea. George and Alanna had been rudely woken by the racket they kicked up, and Alanna had been spared the misery of having to tromp down ungraciously to clean it up. George, still fastening his britches on with his belt had done so instead, bellowing at the fools to either pull themselves together or get out and let himself and his knight mistress sleep. Further questioning of the chastened young men had revealed the exact area they had been 'hanging around' ("Up to no good's more like it," George griped privately to Alanna.) although no amount of persuasion was able to get a good description from them of exactly _what_ had attacked them.   
  
Kissing her peaceful morning's rest good-bye, Alanna had dragged herself out of bed and into her chain mail to investigate. When they discovered her saddling her horse, husband and children demanded they be allowed to go as well, but only George had succeeded in winning the privilege. The very idea made Alanna snort in remembrance. Stolen was more like it.   
  
George cast her a sideways glance. "What're you thinkin', lass?"   
  
Her violet eyes flicked from the trail long enough to smirk at him. "I'm hardly a lass anymore George; No more than you're still a lad."   
  
"You're avoidin' the subject."   
  
"Hm," she turned her gaze back to the trail. Still nothing that appeared out of the ordinary. She was just beginning to doubt her better instincts, when a call like none she had ever heard before greeted her ears. The entire company stopped to listen, straining to hear the faint cries. A mewling, very soft and indistinct, and almost musical, though not in the way of any bird Alanna had ever heard. Selecting a direction, she spurred her horse forward. "Yah!"   
  
"Alanna!? Alanna!" George spurred Shadow up to catch her. "Stupid woman!" he muttered under his breath. "We're both getting' too old for this!"   
  
The cry came again and Alanna turned the stallion towards an open glade and swiftly swung down from the saddle. She broke easily through the first layer of bushes and then had to swim amongst the undergrowth, swearing as she realized how much noise she was making. The mewling continued undaunted however, and so did she. It grew louder as she got closer, and by now she had forgotten everyone following her. Her instincts were telling her something. Whatever she was seeking, it was hurt.   
  
The whimpering grew louder and she louder straight up to the source. Nestled on a branch pressed against the tree's trunk, was a tiny oryx. Woman and rodent blinked at one another, violet to amber. The oryx then began to chatter eagerly, sitting up on its fat little legs to see her better. Its small abdomen was almost entirely round; it more rolled than sat up. It was a gentle honey color with brown markings on its face and tail, helping it blend in amongst the trees. Its round, fat, bushy tail hung about four inches beyond its bottom and ended in a tuft of fuzz, while its ears reminded Alanna strongly of a little brown mouse. But it was no mouse; it was an immortal. One of the few oryxi ever seen in Tortal.   
  
Carefully, so as not to frighten it, she reached into a pocket and pulled out a sweet slice of apple, and offered it up to the small creature. "There you are… nibble nibble…" What was an oryx doing out here, anyway? It wasn't safe for the pets of the gods to wander about like this. Or didn't it have an owner? The oryx leaned out as far as its fat round body would allow it, stretching its tiny forearms out feebly, while making small, eager squeaking noises. She gave it the fruit and it munched on it loudly and happily.   
  
Alanna took a deep breath and exchanged her riding gloves for something tougher. The next part would be the most difficult. Oryxi _looked_ small, cute and harmless, but she knew that inside those little paws were vicious claws, and that a wild oryx could leap a good twenty-five feet. The boys in the woods that morning had probably startled it just as much as it had startled them; George was probably right and they had been eating cakes or something equally inappropriate. The Lady of Pirate's Swoop would be certain to have a chat with their mothers later. Now was not the time to contemplate motherly discipline, however. Steeling herself for whatever might happen, she set one foot squarely on a thick tree root and boosted herself up to grab the little fellow while he was still licking his paws free of the apple juice. The oryx squeaked protest and squirmed in her grasp but she had him firmly in both hands in no time.   
  
"There you are, little one…"   
  
"Alanna!" she turned in the direction of George's breathless call. "Alanna! You irresponsible woman, I should have you wh- what in the name of Mithros is that?" the tall man stopped in his tracks.   
  
"An oryx, George," Alanna said calmly and fished the struggling critter another piece of apple. He immediately cooed happily and accepted it, gobbling it up as he had the first.   
  
"An oryx!? Great Mother- what is one of those doing HERE?!"   
  
"I have no idea, George, why would I?" Alanna couldn't help smiling at the bundle of fur and mischief in her arms and fondly scratched its head. "Come on, we need to get it back to the Swoop and speak with Jon or Numair; they'll hopefully know what to do with it."   
  
George made a face at her and watched her a moment as she made no move to take her own advice. She petted it, smiling despite herself and it curled into the crook of her arm comfortably, purring. Sick dread filled his stomach. "No. Oh no. Not another one. Not another pet! Especially not if _you_ bring it home! We'll never be able to tell the twins 'no' ever again! And what makes you think that's not some nasty god's favorite oryx and that you won't anger him by keeping it yourself, hm, hm?! Alanna?!" he pleaded.   
  
She looked up, having not really heard everything he said, still smiling. "I'm sure the twins would love it, but I think it would be nicer to give it to Thom; he hardly has any of his own."   
  
"Alanna," George wailed in exasperation, knowing it was already much too late to do anything about this.   
  
"Let's get it home to show the children- and of course those silly boys who were afraid of him." Alanna began to pick her way back through the shrubbery to where their horses stood, and the sounds of men waiting to see if they should follow their lord and lady.   
  
"Alanna," George growled warningly. "You're getting too attached- you can't just adopt a wild oryx!"   
  
"Come, Bottle Brush, I'm going to introduce you to Shadow," Alanna cooed to the little oryx, ignoring her husband on purpose.   
  
_"Bottle Brush!?"_   
  
"Haven't you seen its tail?"   
  
"Why me? Great Mithros, why me?!" George moaned, but he had no choice but to follow Alanna and- urgh- Bottle Brush.   
  
He was sure the twins would LOVE it.   
  
  
  
~End Fic~   
  


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Turns out in reality that an oryx is some kind of deer. O.o I learned that AFTER writing this. The headline I chose said something about an oryx and so I just wrote, since I wasn't supposed to read the article and find out what an oryx was. *shrug* Cute tho, no?   
  
Like, hate, loathe, adore?   
  
Do tell!   
  
Thanks for reading tho ~.^   
  
-Lady   
  



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